


Tango

by mynevermore



Category: Dollhouse, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Minor Character Death, drug/alcohol use, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 00:54:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7553920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynevermore/pseuds/mynevermore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two things are certain in life... Death and taxes. But when someone is taken before their time, how do you cope with life without them?</p>
<p>Maybe getting away for a while is the best option. And what better way to get away from it all than to turn yourself over to Naomi's program.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something I've been working on for a while, but I haven't managed to post it yet. I've got about five chapters ready to go, then it's back to the Evernote writing board.
> 
> Hope you like it.

"Hello Tango. It's time for your treatment."

After a short pause, the response is delivered in a gravelly voice and accompanied by a child like smile. "I like my treatments."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He'll never forget the sound of the knocking at the door. It must take a lot of practise to get that measured thumping right to put dread into those on the other side of the door.

He was in the middle of making dinner when the knocking came, Amelia picking out a bottle of wine to complement the spaghetti bolognaise he's had simmering most of the afternoon. He smiles as he hears someone at the door and tosses the tea towel over his shoulder, walking down towards the front door to open it. "Hi Claire bear!"

The two men on the other side of the door are somber, dressed in blue from head to toe with hats in hand. "James Novak?"

"Yes? I mean...uhh...that's me. Is there something wrong?" His arm curls around Amelia as she walks up beside him, both looking rather confused.

The older of the two officers clears his throat. "Mr and Mrs Novak, I'm afraid that there's been an incident. Your daughter Claire has been..." The rest of his words are drowned out by the wail of grief from Amelia as it dawns on them both that their happy little family just became a miserable pair.

The pasta in the kitchen boils over as Jimmy and Amelia clutch each other in the living room, the two police officers sitting with them. He watches his wife sob as she clutches a cushion from the couch and doesn't care about the mess in the kitchen.

Everything hurts, deep inside, he can't function, he can't think. The only thing he can do is shut down, go through the motions. He nods mutely to whatever the officers say and signs where he needs to. He gathers up Amelia and tucks her into bed, then settles down beside her on the bed and pets her hair while she cries herself to sleep.

Even when everything is restored to him years later, his memory of the next few days are a blur and he can't pick out any single detail except for the moment when he was forced to identify his daughter's body. That was the moment when the whole universe stood still for an instant and his heart stopped beating.

So many moments that he'll never forget, until he lets them take those moments away.


	2. Chapter 2

His wife had been unable to do it but he knows that it's a necessity. He still can't believe that he's agreed to do this. Of all the possible things a parent can do in their lifetime, the most gutwrenching has to be identifying the body of their only child.

But he's buried all of that, he's going through the motions and trying not to think or feel anything at all. If he just plods through it all one day at a time, he might survive this instead of feeling like he died along with his Claire bear.

He climbs out of the Prius that he and Amelia bought together a few years ago when they were thinking of adding another child to their little family. The disappointment when nothing took had put significant strain on his marriage, but they'd pulled through it. They had Claire and that was what was the most important thing to both of them. His worn gaze slides to the back seat as he locks up the car, to the grumpy cat plush sitting in the middle with the seat belt around it exactly where Claire had left it when he'd dropped her off at the mall to go to the movies with her friends.

He locks up the car and heads into the building, past the Medical Examiner sign, through the double doors until he's standing in front of the receptionist. It takes a while before he can push out the words to describe why he's there but the woman is patient since she's seen many families in this position before. After that, it's only a moment until he's standing beside a metal table and looking down at the small shape under a sheet.

The sheet is white without a stain. He can at least appreciate that, he wouldn't want his pure little girl laying underneath something with even the slightest mark. She deserves better than that.

There's an older man beside him, shorter than he is but not by much. The man has a badge on his lapel that reveals his name as Dr Singh and his features are Indian and welcoming. Or at least they would be under normal circumstances, right now though they appear to be drawn and sympathetic underneath the close cropped white beard.

"Mr Novak, are you sure that you're able to do this?" Jimmy looks up from the cloth covered shape, his face drawn and pale, meeting the other man's kind brown eyes. He just nods then watches as the doctor steps around the table and draws back the sheet enough to uncover blonde hair, pale face torn and stitched back together but composed and thin shoulders with angry looking grazes. She looks like she's sleeping as he stares down at her face, well except for the tears in her skin.

The police had told him that it was a collision in the parking lot outside the mall. That the girls had finished their movie and were walking across the parking lot to reach a working payphone so Krissy could call her mother to pick them up as agreed. The officers then described the joyriders who'd stolen a car from the other side of town and were doing burnouts and drag racing through the parking lot, a fifteen year old boy behind the wheel of the car that took his Claire bear from him and left this husk.

Staring down at the body, he bites down hard on his bottom lip to hold back the emotion he's trying to keep hold of. His hand lifts to clutch the crucifix hanging from its chain around his neck and his thoughts turn to God, His Son and His Angels. He silently pleads with them to give him the strength to endure this then he looks up at the doctor.

"This girl is my daughter, Claire Anael Novak." Dr Singh nods and moves to cover her again but Jimmy holds out a hand. "Please, just give me a moment." The doctor nods again at that and turns away to collect the paperwork, allowing him a moment alone with the girl.

Jimmy's hand shakes just slightly as he reaches out to touch the skin of her cheek. He's a little startled by the coolness of her skin, once so warm and full of vigor, but what startles him most is the pliability. Everyone knows about rigor mortis and the effect it has on the body, after all it's one of the corner stones of those police shows out there. He looks up at the doctor in confusion. "She's so.... soft?"

Dr Singh looks over at him, again that kind sad smile. "Rigor mortis is not a permanent condition, Mr Novak."

He nods in response to the comment and just stands there, gently stroking his daughter's cheek. Soft words gently fall from his lips as he gazes down at her sweet face. "Lord, in weakness or in strength we bear your image. I pray for those I love who now live in a land of shadows, where the light of memory is dimmed, where the familiar lies unknown, where the beloved become as strangers. Hold them in your everlasting arms, and grant to those who care a strength to serve, a patience to persevere, a love to last and a peace that passes human understanding. Hold her in your everlasting arms, today and for all eternity; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

He bends down and touches a kiss to her forehead then looks up at the medical examiner who is waiting for his attention. The old man nods at that and murmurs. "Amen." Then he approaches with the paperwork so that Jimmy can sign it in all the necessary places.

A scribble and one last look then he's back out the door. He hurries to the Prius as the lingering stench of death hammers home what he had to do. Sitting in the front seat, a single tear trickles down his cheek but he knows he needs to remain strong for those around him. He needs to be the rock upon which they collapse, the support in their time of need. He just doesn't know how to utter the comforts they will doubtless need through the next few weeks.


	3. Chapter 3

The service is beautiful in their family church. The same pastor who christened their baby girl is performing the funeral. The white coffin rests in the middle of the altar area, covered in white lilies, red roses and dripping with pink carnations.

Jimmy has barely said a word since they were informed of the accident. He doesn't even care that he's slept on the couch ever since that moment while Amelia slept in their daughter's bed. He doesn't care that his kitchen is filled with casseroles, pies and stews, more than he and Amelia could ever eat. He doesn't care that he's sitting at the front of the church in a rumpled suit and trenchcoat that hasn't seen an iron in over a week, his tie on backwards and his shirt stained with his wife's tears.

People have been giving him a wide berth at home and at work, Amelia has been lost in her own grief and family. They've been helpful and everywhere. He can't breathe for all the well wishers.

The service finishes and he can't move from the pew. He doesn't want to deal with them, he doesn't want their condolences. He just stares at the coffin, the box containing the corpse of his little girl, his hands shaking and his thoughts a million miles away.

Amelia telling him that she's going to go with her family only barely registers on his consciousness. The pastor sitting beside him doesn't register at all. He just stares at that box, the petals falling to the floor. His blue eyes then jump to the plush cat that rests on top of the coffin and he stands up, the rumbling noise getting fainter as he walks away from the pastor.

He takes the plushie from the coffin and looks down at the grumpy looking cat, his hands stroking over the fur. He wants the tears to fall, he wants to be able to cry and grieve. It doesn't want to come.

So finally he decides it's time to leave his little girl behind.

The house is full of people when he walks through the door. He just walks through the front door and past the living room to his study. The door closes solidly behind him and he turns the key in the lock then collapses in his chair. He sets the cat on the desk then stares at it for hours, tuning out the sounds of people in the house.

Sobbing from the living room, footsteps going in and out of Claire's bedroom, whispering voices. It all quiets eventually as the light outside fades and he doesn't bother to turn the desk lamp on.

He wants to cry but the tears won't come.


	4. Chapter 4

The next few weeks see Amelia sinking deeper into a funk, the wine cellar is now empty and she seems to be going out every night. Not that Jimmy would notice, since he's sunk himself into his job and spends most of his time at the office.

His routine is robotic - first thing in the morning he makes up his bed on the couch, coffee in the machine, cup of coffee with toast, then a run for an hour before leaving for the work day. Seven day work week, usually eating at the office. He knows that he doesn't have a marriage to speak of but he's still so numb that he just doesn't care.

If he'd noticed, he would have seen that Amelia has been sleeping in most days. He also would have seen that she's hung over each morning, the recycling crate full of liquor bottles and there's huge dark circles under her eyes. The vacant look in her eyes and large pupils show hints of substances stronger than alcohol helping her try to cope.

But neither of them has noticed the struggles of the other, church on Sundays is a thing of the past and happier times. Neither is really there, physically or mentally, to answer the door when people come to check on them. And gradually the visits grow further and further apart until they finally cease.

And the couple themselves, or well...Amelia and Jimmy...they're like ships in the night. Passing one another but barely registering their presence. Maybe it was just as well.


	5. Chapter 5

The pounds have been dropping off him, but his secretary at work has been making sure that he eats at least one meal per day. It usually just appears on his desk around midday and he just mechanically eats it. 

The work is familiar. It's comforting in that familiarity and he can just focus getting the job done. Getting paperwork done by the hour, ensuring the company has more profits, saving the databases, rinse and repeat. It's all he has left and even his faith is shaken. The most difficult thing in the world seems to be having faith in a God who would take his most precious girl from him and shatter his marriage.

Gradually he just starts packing a bag in the morning. Fresh clothes, fresh underwear, toiletries that he can use in the showers at work. Next, it's a pillow and a blanket. The sofa at work is reasonably comfortable and it's easier to just go from desk to sofa and back again. Soon enough he hasn't been home for weeks.

His boss is kind enough to arrange appointments with a psychiatrist but he doesn't want to talk it out. He's pushed his feelings down so far that he just feels numb all over and he is content to just focus on his work. The company's profits are growing steadily, his boss should be pleased instead of constantly pestering him about getting fresh air.

"The window is open. That's all the fresh air I need."

The older man sighs at that and shakes his head. He knew this was probably not a battle that he was going to win but he also knew that Jimmy's current work habits are going to push him over the edge. "At least go and take your lunch in the break room. And I won't take no for an answer!" He aims a finger and a stern look at Jimmy before leaving.

A sigh and a grumble later and Jimmy does as told, aware that he's on thin ice with the boss for reasons other than work. So he just sits in one of the modern looking plastic chairs and robotically takes bites of his sandwich while staring at the wall. If he makes his presence uncomfortable for others, they should leave him be. 

"I arranged it months ago, with the bonus I got from the Madison account." He hears Brady strut in with another of their colleagues. The big mouth was always bragging about something. "A fantastic time, no strings attached, everything is just perfect. And all kinds of talented too." His grin widens as he goes to the coffee machine with the other young man.

Alexander looks confused at that. "But you said it's guaranteed no strings attached and she can't say no. How is that guaranteed?"

"Because they have some kinda memory wipe thing. She doesn't remember a thing the next day. You get your money's worth with no feelings or awkward moments later on." He smirks at that, just the kind of jackass that it would appeal to.

The words sink in through the numb layer coating Jimmy's brain and he frowns. Memory wipe? He shakes his head then and ignores the conversation. Time to get back to work, so he throws out three quarters of his uneaten sandwich and heads back to his office to bury his head in work.

Tick, tick, tick. It's the only sound in the office other than the shuffle of paper but it rouses him for a moment when the ticking is louder than the ambient noise outside. Then Jimmy realizes that the office is dark except for his desk lamp. Looking at the clock, it's well after ten and he stretches. He knows he should probably head to the couch for the night. A glance at his phone and he frowns, the voicemail icon blinking on the lock screen.

He doesn't usually get calls from anyone, few people have the number. A tremor of dread passes through his body as he lifts the phone to check the message.

"Jimmy? Jimmy, pick up! It's Amelia....look, I'm down at the precinct. This is my phone call. I... Um, I need your help. They're gonna put me in a facility. Some kind of clinic. Please... Jimmy, come get me." He can hear the tears in her voice, the chattering of her teeth. He stares at the wall then lowers the phone, pressing a couple of buttons then lifting the phone to his ear again.

"Message deleted. There are no saved messages. To listen to your greeting, please press 1. To record a new greeting, please press 2. To forward messages to another number, please..." He shuts off the phone, cutting off the pleasant computer voice. His body lifts from the chair and he walks to the couch, he almost gets there before his legs crumple under him and he hits the floor hard.

It's finally happened. He's oddly relieved as he starts to sob there on the floor in his crumpled suit and tie, his phone clattering to the floor beside him. His head in his hands and the only sound is the choked cries of a broken man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, here's where I'm up to. Please let me know what you think. I know it's pretty angsty to start but it's all set dressing for the next part. Another setup chapter to go and we should finally get to the good stuff :)


End file.
